Therapy
by colossally abundant numbers
Summary: Wherein Germany and France become England's marriage counselor and sex therapist, because the EU has to help one of their own, right? EU shenanigans in the background. France/Germany, UK/US?
1. Chapter 1

**therapy**

—**  
**

Wherein Germany and France become England's marriage counselor and sex therapist, respectively. EU shenanigans in the background. France/Germany, UK - US?  
Yes, this is almost a spinoff of the France/Germany in _Blind Carbon Copy_, although the USUK may or may not stay. It's a side pairing anyways. :)

—

Hopeless, Germany thought, England was absolutely _hopeless_.

This was their thirty-first session, and England had brought lukewarm chicken tikka masala as payment. Of course, England would never acknowledge it as 'payment', because he had never agreed to their counseling sessions in the first place. These had spontaneously occurred because France insisted on holding post-World Conference meetings titled "For Unity and Brotherhood _vers_ _la Manche_" that involved him and France presenting to a peculiarly irritable England.

"So," France began, nudging Germany with a conspiratorial glance, "now that _Angleterre _has taken off to the restroom, we need a plan of action."

Germany sighed. "What sort of plan? We've already pretty much concluded that he's over-thinking his issues with America. It's up to him now to acknowledge that he's acting much rather like an overzealous drama queen."

"Certainly, he is," France agreed, "but you know England, he is much too proud to admit anything like that. We'll have to force it out of him in a different manner. You know, I was thinking..."

France was thinking. This could never be good, Germany decided, never be good.

—

England returned from the loo a few minutes later, looking disheveled and mildly annoyed.

He sat down in his usual spot by the window, gave the two self-proclaimed therapists a dubious look, and said, "I thought we were meeting up separately. I still need to discuss that military...alliance with...France." Germany thought the way he said 'alliance' and 'France' made the matter sound disgusting, and he felt rather annoyed in France's place.

"Whatever do you mean, _Angleterre_? If I am your sex therapist and _Deutschland _is your marriage counselor,"—Germany thought he could see England visibly cringe when France said 'sex therapist'—"Well, we figured that our help would be doubly potent if we did it together."

'Doubly potent', Germany thought ruefully, made the two of them sound like a pair of Viagra pills, ready to knock down all of England's sexual frustrations at a moment's notice. (This, of course, brought some horrific slogans to the forefront of Germany's mind, which he did his best to suppress.)

"You are _not_ my sex therapist!" England snapped, "I need no help in that department, thank you very much, and I absolutely do not need marriage counseling! I'm not even married, for god's sake!"

"Sure you aren't," France replied smoothly, "In any case, for today, we intend to present something. Think of it as a message from the Eurozone to an uninformed outsider."

"Uninformed outsider?" England grumbled, "What makes you think am I uninformed? I'll have you know that I'm informed enough such that I want absolutely _nothing _to do with the Eurozone. You can have your little fun bailing out Greece and—"

France coughed, feeling slightly embarrassed. The bailouts had been such a sore spot with Germany lately, and France really would've preferred not touching the subject at all. (At least, he thought ruefully, _Deustchland_ had been open to rational discussion about his problems and wouldn't just scream and rant about how 'unjust' and 'annoying' Eurozone policies were, unlike a certain _someone_.)

He cast a quick glance at Germany and switched on the projector, gesturing wildly at the screen: "Look, _Angleterre_!"

England looked up.

And came face to face with an over-sized image of—

"What the fuck does Katy Perry have to do with the Eurozone?"

France grinned and Germany groaned.

"First of all, _Angleterre_, I promise she is very much related. Why don't you start off by telling me what one of her most successful singles was?"

England gawked, eyebrows furrowed, and finally snapped, "How the hell would I know?" He did, of course, _know_, but that didn't mean he was interested in acknowledging the fact that he possessed such juvenile taste in music. (It was most distasteful, really, and what would he do if America found out?)

"Buf of course you do!" France said cheerfully, "I seem to recall that this single climbed quite high on your charts. Let us see, what was it called again, ah, yes," France clicked to the next slide, "Hot 'n Cold, a quite lovely song for you Anglophones, don't you think?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Of course you don't, I haven't even begun my explanation yet. Aren't you supposed to be a gentleman, England? Surely that does not involve interrupting others' presentations every few minutes, does it now?"

"Yours is hardly—"

"Now," France continued, raising his voice so that he could successfully speak over England's complaints, "let us analyze this song on a line-by-line basis, shall we?"

Germany pressed the left arrow for the next slide and said, with an as even voice as he could muster, "France and I have determined..." He glanced at France for moral support (because this sentence was really difficult to say), and continued, "...that we can write an entire dissertation on the hidden messages within this song. Now, this first sentence—"

France finished for him, and Germany was thankful, because only _France_ would be capable of writing a dissertation on this _thing_ America liked to call a 'song'. Germany would surely die of embarrassment.

"—it is _clearly_ talking about how easily you swing from one emotional state to the next. Do you remember that time when you received some gifts from America—a supposedly happy occasion, but what did you turn it into?"

"If you're just here to dissect my faults, I don't see why I should have to listen to either of you!"

"We're not here to dissect your faults! We're here to help you _fix_ them."

"I don't need help in fixing anything!" England protested, annoyed. "Listen, those gifts from America, it was obvious he put no thought into them—they don't even play on my DVD player! How can you expect me to _not_ flare up at him? Especially after I'd put so much effort into—"

"England," Germany cut in, hoping to stem England's incoming rant (even if, as marriage counselors or sex therapists or what have you, they were _supposed_ to be listening to rants, Germany was not interested in following a traditional model for therapy). "Look, England, we understand you are angry, but there are moments when you have to learn to forgive—and especially on the small things. One time, France—"

"_Deutschland_," France mumbled in a mixture of French and German, "Are you really going to tell _that_ story?"

"Yes," he answered (in much the same manner), "because it will help strengthen relations _vers la Manche_." Then he gave France a slight grin, because this was one of the few times he'd actually gotten under France's skin. France, he thought, could be quite cute when he was feeling embarrassed, and he vowed to figure out how to do this more often. Perhaps he should ask Italy to write a book—"The Idiot's Guide to Creating Embarrassing Situations"—not that he was an idiot, mind you—but this would certainly be North Italy's area of expertise.

"So," Germany began, clearing his throat, "a while back, France told me he was attempting to recreate Bratwurst for my enjoyment. This I much appreciated, as we are all aware of the quality of France's cooking." France shot England a challenging smirk, and England glared back darkly in response. "For whatever reason," Germany continued, ignoring the the two...children by his side, "France _insisted_ on hunting wild pigs to obtain the pork needed. And of course, he just _happened_ to take home a radioactive pig, which he cut up and cooked."

It was at this moment that England promptly burst out in laughter.

France crossed his arms in annoyance. "Are you laughing at my expense, _Angleterre_? You—_connard__—_I insist that you stop your feverish mocking this instant!"

England let out another muffled guffaw and managed to choke out, "So, France, radioactive pigs, huh? Looks like you've moved on nicely from frogs and snails. It's quite the wonder that this didn't turn out to be a diplomatic disaster—can you imagine explaining to Germany's boss how you accidentally fed her nation a _radioactive pig_?"

"It is _not_ funny, _Angleterre_!"

Germany just patted France on the shoulder, rubbing comfortable circles along the nation's back. Hopefully France wouldn't attempt to strangle England and reignite a millennium-long rivalry. Hopefully. He cleared his throat (there was an awful lot of mucus in there today) and said, "Alright, but the point is, I _forgave_ France for almost feeding me radioactive pig. Whatever transgressions America made, you can forgive him too."

England leaned in, shooting Germany a broad grin, and said, "Let's forget about America for a moment, shall we? I'd quite like to go back to discussing radioactive pigs and France's _lovely_ cooking. Now, tell me again, what type of sausage was France trying to make?"

Germany groaned.

—

**notes:**

- The reason France says 'Deutschland' instead of 'Allemagne' is to show solidarity between the two countries. It's the same reason Germany says 'France' instead of 'Frankreich' and why the two of them speak each other's languages.

- Eurozone policies: there was a recent blowup in the Eurozone because Germany was unhappy over shouldering most of the bailouts. France did his best to convince Germany to stay with them (and he succeeded). The two of them then defended the euro together, much to the annoyance of other EU nations.

- My headcanon: France and Germany have a healthy relationship. There's no major inbalance of power (ala UK, US in various time periods) and they talk about their problems openly instead of letting it out in (passive-aggressive?) outbursts. They've also reconciled quite well despite the centuries of fighting and takeover behind them (Franco-Prussian war, WWI, WWII).

- There are indeed (an increasing number of) radioactive boars in Germany, which was residue from the Chernobyl incident.

- Speaking of Chernobyl, recent news has been utterly... D: I really hope Japan recovers soon. And Libya too. :( If I include current events, it'll all be EU-related and relatively innocuous.


	2. Chapter 2

Be warned: Eurozone shenanigans. Also, I wrote this before the recent IMF head stuff, so um...yeah.

**chapter 2**

"I think," France said one night, after a particularly trying meeting with the rest of the EU, "you are in great need of a massage — especially to get rid of those knots on your lower back."

He shifted around a little and positioned himself behind Germany. Then he snuck his hand against the nation's back, and sat himself nicely on Germany's bed.

Germany sighed, trying to fight off the encroaching headache. It felt nice, he thought, nice to have a warm body to snuggle up to after a whole day's (absolute lack of) work, but he wasn't sure if _anything_ could make up for the insanity they'd seen that morning.

(Did Finland _have_ to be contrarian? This was all going to blow up, he could just tell, and it would be very, very soon — )

"A massage would be very nice indeed," he muttered, "but France, we have so much — so much work — _ahh _— that's — "

France's laughter was muffled against Germany's hair. "Oh, _Deutschland_, is it not always work with you? I know the Great Pigs are a trying lot, but surely we can overlook their childish antics for the night?" He hummed contentedly, letting his fingers move in circles on his neighbor's back.

Unfortunately, his dedication was disrupted when the phone in his pocket suddenly let out a dire shriek.

"_Merde_," France grumbled, fishing out the offending device. He glanced at the screen, turned to Germany, and said, "Finland wants to speak with you."

"How do you know he wants to speak with _me_?"

France snorted. "Oh, do not be dense, Deutschland — I think we both know _exactly_ why he is calling."

Germany wanted to stick out his tongue — maybe make one of those childish faces that America seemed particularly fond of delivering to England — but decided this just wasn't the right moment. Whatever Finland was calling about was very clearly serious business.

"Hello?"

"Is this _Saksa_?" Finland asked.

"Yes," Germany confirmed, "although you may have called the wrong number — this is _Fra_ — "

"Oh, I am very sorry, _Saksa_," Finland intoned, although he did not sound particularly apologetic, "but I have never had a problem reaching you by calling _Ranska_ before."

Well, that _was_ true more often than not, wasn't it?

Finland continued, "In any case, I am calling because — well, I do not mean to be demeaning in any way, but I do not like this current turn of events."

Germany gave France a look, and France patted his shoulder sympathetically. Tomorrow's meeting, they both knew, would be very, _very_ bad. It was a good thing most of the Eurozone were not armed with deadly weapons (perhaps he should thank his lucky stars that Switzerland had adamantly _refused_ to join and Sweden had never shown much interest), or else he was sure a war would break out from the tension.

"I know that it is a troublesome matter, _Finnland_, but we should stick together, don't you think? Part of the idea of the Eurozone was that we would be more powerful — "

"But only if the ideas _work_," Finland interrupted, "I think we need to discuss this tomorrow. In fact, at tomorrow's meeting, I would like to request a twenty minute block of time to present a video."

Well, there was no way he could refuse that — it was a perfectly reasonable request, even if all sorts of warning bells were going off in Germany's head. He couldn't refuse, so — "Ahh, certainly."

And the phone call ended as abruptly as it began.

"Finland wants to present a video tomorrow," Germany said, slipping the phone onto the nightstand.

France made a face, knowing full well that they were doomed, and all the optimism in the world wasn't going to save them.

—

The first thing they noticed when they walked into the meeting room was that there was someone who very much did not belong sitting casually in the last row. Said nation smiled serenely when he saw France and Germany enter. They looked absolutely _horrendous_ — like they'd gotten no sleep at all the night before.

"_Angleterre_," France grumbled, "We need this room."

"Oh?" England leered, "Think of me as the wallpaper then — or perhaps an ant? A fly? Or maybe — a _pig_?" France found the emphasis on the word 'pig' disturbing — what exactly was England implying?

"I do not know what kind of meds you have been taking, but we spoke with _Belgique_ several weeks ago. This room is reserved for Eurozone members only. Last I checked, you were still making out with that pound sterling of yours."

"Well France, _I_ spoke with Belgium this morning, and she seemed perfectly happy to let me squat."

France shot England an exasperated look. "There are plenty of rooms next door that you can squat in, and those of us in Europe proper would _much_ prefer that you take yourself and those rain clouds over your head _elsewhere_."

England grinned, standing up. "I think the rain clouds are over _your_ head today, my dear France. Continental Europe's a lovely lot, aren't they? Some whine and do no work, some complain and dish you the blame, oh, I do feel very sorry for the two of you, so very sorry. It must be painful — dealing with a slew of bumbling fools. _I_ at least only have to deal with one."

Germany set his briefcase on the table and said, "England, if you are just here to watch us suffer — "

"Oh, I _am_ here to watch you suffer. Isn't there a German word for this — what is it again — _schadenfreude_?"

Germany looked skyward, and wondered if he could request divine intervention — maybe the ancient Greek god Zeus would worm his nose into earthly matters again and zap England with a lightning bolt. Or maybe Odin would come along and smack some sense into the island nation, or —

France tapped his shoulder, and whispered, "We should hire someone to shoot _Angleterre_ in the foot."

Now _that_ Germany was definitely in agreement with. "I nominate _Schweiz_."

Unfortunately for them, neither Zeus, Odin nor Switzerland were willing to intervene on their behalf, and England was there to stay, leering grin and all.

And his grin grew even wider when Finland walked into the room, like an eager child anticipating a grand show.

"So..." Finland began, "I don't know if either of you have seen this, but Portugal sent me this a few days ago."

He connected his laptop to the screen, and pulled up the link. As soon as the narrator began speaking — in _English_ with a very distinct accent, both France and Germany cringed. "Angleterre, I just _knew_ you would've had a hand in this."

England raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

At the video's conclusion, Finland said, "I simply do not understand what Portugal wants to say — is he suggesting that I do not know enough about his culture to appreciate rescuing it?"

Portugal suddenly sat up, shouting, "I think it's quite evident you don't know anything about me — how can you refuse so easily? Have you no pity, no heart?" Here, Portugal leapt into the air, clutching his own heart and shaking his head. Then, he faced Finland again and continued, "Perhaps being nestled in the cold, icy north, you have lost your soul, just like Ru — "

"Portugal," Germany cut in before the nation could finish the word 'Russia' (because didn't Portugal know that _Russia_ was a very bad topic to be mentioning to Finland?), "let's not resort to personal attacks." And let's not, he thought with annoyance, mention Russia around _Finland_, because he already had a headache, and the meeting had barely started as it was...

Portugal sighed. "Look, I understand it's his _choice_, but why can't he have more empathy? We're not perfect, everyone makes mistakes, and we're trying to _fix_ things!"

"Perhaps you are," Finland said, "but what you are asking — I am unconvinced. I think it does me more harm than good. If you had such a grand empire with so many cultural artifacts, why can't you help yourself?"

The argument quickly dissolved into a mess of squabbling, and so France and Germany hid themselves in a corner, shooting glares at the smug look on England's face.

"So, how is it, dealing with the baffling pigs?"

France scowled. "Angleterre, do not try our patience."

"Try your patience? Oh, but I am _hardly_ the one begging for bailouts, am I now? Nor, for that matter, am I the one running around calling other countries 'pigs'. Offensive reaps what offensive sows."

Germany sighed. So _this_ was what England was taking offense to? This was what had driven England to squat in their meeting room and make snide remarks at the most inopportune of times? It wasn't like _Germany_ had been the one to coin the 'PIIGS' acronym — the play on words wasn't even in his native language! Just because they'd used it as shorthand a couple of times in official documents didn't mean that they _wanted_ to insult the countries involved!

Except, unfortunately, it was clear that England would not rest until he felt justice had been served, because England had climbed onto a nearby chair and scribbled on the whiteboard — "PIIGS deserve equal rights too!"

Someone — who neither Germany nor France could see from their vantage point — shouted something in support. And soon, there came a flurry of yells, followed by a series of bitter complaints, and finally someone — South Italy — stood up and said, "I demand you put an end to this offensive mess at once! I thought you idiots had promised to stop using 'PIIGS' but _clearly_ that was just an empty lie!"

Germany shook his head, willing himself to remain calm. "That was not the case at all, Romano! We — "

"I wasn't talking to you, potato bastard!" South Italy snapped, and Germany was taken aback for a moment. If he wasn't talking to him, then who was he —

"Inghilterra! You think you have a right to laugh? What a hypocrite, you — "

Germany looked towards England's face, which had turned from smug to horrified in a matter of seconds.

"I am not a hypocrite!" England snarled, "I have been reversing my situation, I've — "

"Oh, you've been reversing your situation, have you?" Spain asked, a scowl apparent on his face, "Is that why we can joke that _los Estados Unidos_ is the PIIGS of the entire world? Who gets to play-act _Alemania_ in that case then, huh? Perhaps China will make all the pigs fly again? Unless you think you can kiss your lover better at night?"

"What the hell does America have to do with _me_?"

"I thought you didn't want to be European, huh? Well, no _Europa_ for you, _Inglaterra_! Go enjoy your giant romp with _América_ and see how far that gets you! Besides, everyone knows this damn mess was related to you and your stupid habit of — "

England, having run out of insults, had to resort to his trump card: "Goddamn you, Spain — y-you — you haven't produced anything useful since I ripped apart your damn armada!"

Spain looked momentarily shocked — his _armada_, oh, this was —

And South Italy, seeing that Spain was incapacitated, stepped into the fray to defend him. He jabbed a finger at England and screamed, "Get with the times, you — you stupid — stupid _American_! That was hundreds of years ago and hardly bears any resemblance to anything that's happening now!"

England bristled at the insult to his identity — because goddamn it, he may not have identified fully with continental Europe, but he sure as hell was _not_ American.

"Piss off, you continental wanker!"

"What the hell did you call me?"

And so, the decibel levels in the room rose progressively higher, and insults descended from mildly offensive to dirt fished out of a gutter.

Germany, however, felt peculiarly content at England's faltering defense of all things English. What was that English turn of phrase usually applied to justice again?

"It looks like England got _served,_" he concluded.

France hummed in agreement.

—

**notes (linked version is on my livejournal, see link in profile):**

- I swear this thing is starting to turn into _Adventures of the EU_, starring France and Germany, with England serving as the on and off antagonist. :P  
- Portugal sent a video to Finland explaining why they wanted the bailouts. (side note: they were wrong about the origins of 'arigato'; it doesn't come from Portuguese.) Finland was in the position to block the bailouts (they eventually were approved).  
- PIIGS is an acronym used to describe Portugal, Italy, Ireland, Greece, Spain, and sometimes it's prepended with 'Great' to also represent Great Britain. It started off as just 'PIGS' and expanded as the economic situations of various countries got worse.  
- The acronym is actually part of several larger acronyms: BAFFLING PIGS (Belgium, Austria, Finland, France, Luxembourg, Ireland, Netherlands, Germany, Portugal, Italy, and Spain) are all the countries in the Eurozone, and DUKS (Denmark, UK, Sweden) aren't.  
- Also, those of you who were here for the UKUS, sorry — hopefully we'll see more of them next chapter?

I actually considered not posting this, so I'm sorry if it's offensive. Please let me know and I'll take it down (I totally get that some of the jokes might be offensive...the use of 'PIIGS' did get banned from the Financial Times.)

Reviews are always awesome. :)


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